Harry Potter and the Crowned Guardians
by AkashaWinters
Summary: Harry's 6th year is packed; Occlumency, voldemort, Snape and visions. Trelawney tells a confusing prophesy, Malfoy's acting weird. Harry&co. must crack the riddle before it's too late and who are these four muggles from the 1940's? HP/Narnia. SLASH
1. Prologue: Touching Time

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.]

**AN:** I have edited and updated this chapter, mostly grammer and spelling. The only major change is the time the story is set. It now begins in September instead of May, the beginning of Harry's Sixth year as this seemed more appropriate. Constructiv criticism very welcome. Please remember I am currently Bet'a-less!

**Prologue - Touching Time**

Ten-year-old Lucy Pevensie sat watching the raindrops run down the window, condensation was slowly making its way up from the lower edge of the pane. She had almost completely tuned out her French teacher's mono-tone pronunciation lecture. Her mind instead drifting towards the magical world of Narnia. It was September 1942, two years since their first adventure in Narina, and since then she had returned twice; a year ago when they met Prince Caspian and only two weeks ago in unusual circumstances. Their most recent trip had been unlike the ones before, she and Edmund had taken a wrong turn and found themselves down an alley they did not recognise, moments later their feet were no-longer in London, but in Narnia once more. The trip had been brief and Narnia eerily empty; no signs of war nor millennia past, the buildings stood as solid and proud as ever, the land as lush and green, but there was no life, no soul. Then Aslan had appeared and spoken to them; they were growing up, and like their sister and brother, they too would soon out-grow their magical nursery and Narnia would be no-more to them.

Ed had not spoken, just nodded sadly, but she had confronted Aslan, she was the youngest, still a child, she still believed, why should Narnia close it's doors to her? At the time she had been angry, as angry as the snow-storm that surrounded them once Aslan had disappeared. She had not wanted to speak, nor even breathe, and when they had been returned to their dull reality, it was Ed who quietly explained to Peter and Susan their new adventure. It was only now, as she sat there watching the rain, did Lucy contemplate Aslan's explanation. He had spoken of a new world, a new adventure, a new life of magic and mystery. A world where they would once again take their rightful place, to guide and protect.

In the depths of Lucy's ten-year-old mind, she began to wonder if dreams were all Narnia ever really was, if she was really growing up at last, like her elder siblings. If Aslan's words were just her brain's way of telling her to grow up and accept that this was the only life there was, this normality the only adventure they would ever live. Yet, as she watched the last raindrops wiggle their way down the glass pane, she felt a glimmer of hope deep down inside that was not ready to be squashed just yet.

"...Miss Pevensie! Pay attention! Combien des élèves y a-t-il dans votre collège?"

Lucy jumped and stared up a the chalk board for a moment, "Il y a cent quinze élèves dans mon collège...?"

It wouldn't be long before the bell rang when she would meet her siblings for the ride home and a weekend of freedom.

HPNHPNHPNHPN

At the other end of the Britain, in a different boarding school, in a different time, sat 16-year-old Harry Potter in an equally dull charms lesson. He too was watching the rain pelt against the ancient glass pane next to him. It had been an eventful summer since the department of mystery's incident. With Dumbledore fully re-instated, the ministry in up-roar over the proven existence of Voldermort and the death eater attacks ever-increasing, it looked like all-out war was likely to break lose in the near future. Meanwhile, Harry was having a had enough time concentrating on his NEWT lessons, his Quidditch and extra DADA training. On top of all that he had just started back with Occlumency lessons with Snape.

He and Snape would have liked to be as venomous to each other as they had been last year, but with the amount of time they were having to spend together and the safety of the wizarding world at stake, in reality it just wasn't possible. Not to say Harry liked Snape or anything now, but they managed to tolerate each other for long enough to get on with the job and Snape did know how to push all Dumbledore's buttons, which Harry secretly appreciated.

With Occlumency too now, Harry seemed to have spent more time in Snape's presence these last two weeks than with his friends. He was over-worked, tired, irritable and couldn't concentrate. If the lesson's had been making any difference, he might have felt a little less hard done by, but like last year, he had yet to see any progress. Dumbledore had approached the subject at the beginning of summer, but both Harry and Snape had firmly put their foot down, DADA coaching was one thing poking around in each other's minds again was another entirely. However, after almost a month of severe headaches and Voldemort visions, when Harry had returned for the new term at Hogwarts they had caved in.

In actual fact, it had been after a particularly odd vision that Dumbledore had insisted on the lessons continuing. The vision, or dream, Harry wasn't really sure, had not been like any other he had every received. It was very real, just like his visions, only it wasn't of death eaters and pain and it didn't make his hair stand on end like all his other visions did. It had been of young boy and girl in a vast green space with rolling hills and rivers, he'd seen a lion, which had spoken and they had spoken back. Then all of a sudden a snow storm had blown up out of no-where. The boy and girl had cried out in surprise and as the snow whipped around them, he had reached out to them but his hand had gone right through them as if in a pensive. They had looked up, the girl looking through him as though she did not see him at all, but the boy, he had looked right at him. All of a sudden Harry had been filled with memories, so quickly, so fleeting he was only grasping at mere snippets of moments in time. There were bangs and sirens, bright lights, laughter, fur coats and snow, talking animals, screams, swords, horses, bells and cheering crowds and four children playing, fighting, growing up. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was lost and Harry could hardly remember what he had seen, like waking from a dream thats already departed.

He had been keeping a diary of all his visions, for Dumbledore to review once a week, sometimes information could be glimpsed, sightings and locations assessed. Normally, he would floo the diary over to Dumbledore at the end of the week, then later that evening pick it up after a fifteen minute cup of tea as the headmaster probed him for further details and expressed his concern. Harry did not resent that Dumbledore used his visions for this purpose, just as he also did not resent that the expressed concern was more a formality now. They both new the horrors that Harry witnessed on an almost daily basis could not be soothed with a pat on the back and a lemon drop and Harry understood that war was imminent and the death of Voldemort was the only thing that would stop the visions.

Yet, it had surprised him that such a seemingly harmless vision had concerned Dumbledore so much more. Perhaps because it was so out of character and it could not be explained? Or perhaps the headmaster knew exactly what it meant, which troubled him even more. Either way, he had a nagging feeling that his troubles were just beginning.

"Harry? Are you coming? We're going to be late for Quidditch practice."


	2. Chapter 1: Prophesy

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.]

**AN:** I have edited and updated this chapter, mostly grammer and spelling. The only major change is the time the story is set. It now begins in September instead of May, the beginning of Harry's Sixth year as this seemed more appropriate.

**Chapter 1 - Prophesy**

It was Saturday evening and Harry was making his way from the kitchens, and a hastily eaten dinner, to the dungeons with Quidditch robes and broomstick in one hand. He hadn't bothered showering, that would have meant missing dinner and Occlumency was a pretty tough workout anyway. Snape would just have to deal with him smelling for a bit longer. At least he wasn't dueling tonight, Harry didn't think he could cope with the running around, he was already ready to call it a day. He supposed it would be too much to hope for that Snape would to take it easy on him. Reaching the door to Snape's office he knocked once. The door sprang open and Harry pushed it aside to see the Potions Master hunched over a pile of marking.

"Get yourself sorted Potter", Snape drawled as he scribbled a last no-doubt scathing remark on a students work.

Harry took the liberty of transfiguring a chair into a crash mat behind him. He had too many sores already this evening, he didn't fancy adding anymore to list. Snape raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, he had become relatively accustomed to Harry padding up the room. At first Snape had argued, reasoning that the hard landings would only serve to encourage him to learn faster. However, Harry had argued that unlike in dueling, when landing on the floor was because of a mistake, which he would learn quickly enough from, here he would be landing on the floor constantly until he learned to learned to bloke Snape. After two broken figures, a cut forehead and a concussion, Snape had conceded the point.

Moving to stand in front of his desk Snape raised his wand leisurely, then with force hissed "Legilimens".

Harry's day flashed before his mind. Lunch with Hermione and Ron, Transfiguration paper, Quidditch practice, dinner, Snape at his desk. The contact broke.

"Come on Potter, you have to concentrate!" Snape chided.

Harry Took a deep breathe then let go.

"Legilimens!"

Yesterday....

"Legilimens!"

The shopping in Diagon Alley.

"Potter, you've got to try to clear your mind. This is hopeless!" Snape snarled. Then he took a deep breath and relaxed his face. "Think about emptying your mind, like you do naturally just before you drift off to sleep. Again. Legilimens."

Harry was getting into bed, he was relaxing, he was exhausted from Quidditch, he was so tired he couldn't think about anything. He hoped he'd get a decent sleep tonight. No visions. Suddenly, last night's vision came to the surface of his mind and just before he could yell out a warning, Snape had hold of it and it as being replayed full-force in his mind. Screaming, laughter, black robes and that snake. Then there was blood everywhere and every curse they used he could feel, his own body crying out from injuries he didn't have. Then everything was going dark.

"Potter." Snape half caught the boy as he fell, landing half on, half off the crash mat. He swore loudly. The boy had passed out. Again. He could hardly be blamed, the pain he must be feeling was immense, how he managed to survive feeling that pain at night in his dreams, Snape didn't want to think about it. Although, as a Death Eater, he was unfortunately also privy to such pain; all too often he'd been on the receiving line. Sometimes, he wondered if the boy's torture would ever end. He didn't like Potter, not by a long shot, he was too much like his father (and mother); too headstrong, too stubborn, too naive, too noble, too good by far. Despite this, he didn't hate the boy, not any longer, not after everything he'd seen, everything they'd put him though and the boy had the nerve to keep going.

Snape fetched a glass of water and placed it on the floor next to Harry, then returned to his desk and continued his marking.

HPNHPNHPNHP

His knee ached and his head hurt and all Harry could do was think of bed as he stumbled through the castle on his way back to the Griffindor tower. He'd had a hard day; Quidditch practice had been grueling and Occlumency been made especially hard by the particularly nasty vision he'd had the night before. Groaning, he rounded the corner only two corridors away from his destination when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist in a steel grip. Harry yelped and had his wand in his left hand in a split-second, pointing directly at the shadows to his right. Slowly a body emerged from the shadows to join the hand and Harry was surprised to find himself face to face with Sybill Trelawney.

"Professor!" Harry gasped in surprise, he began to relax, half expecting her to predict his pending death when he realised something wasn't quite right.

Her eyes were glazed and it was a though she were looking through him. She stood in silence for a moment and Harry had a funny feeling he knew what was about to happen. Then she opened her mouth and spoke:

"_When the stones are gifted and the sound of war is cried, the guardians shall step through time to their sorcerer and defy. For the Dark Lord cannot be vanquished unless the magician becomes the mage and the four are the key to the power of the age. They shall be valiant, just, gentle, magnificent and together it shall be seen and they shall bring him to his rightful place at the table of thirteen..."_

Suddenly, Trelawney's eyes fluttered shut and she went as stiff as a board and fell backwards hitting the floor with a loud thump in a very undignified fashion.

"Ouch," Harry winced. Switched his wand back to his right hand he pointed at his divinations Professor tentatively. "Enervate?"

HPNHPNHPNHPN

It was late evening and the Pevensie siblings sat around the open fire of their London home. Peter was reading out a letter from the pile in front of him. "They say there's been no change... they do not expect mother to surface from her coma anytime soon ... they are expecting a specialist next month and shall request her to be visited upon..."

"Do you think she'll ever wake up?" The younger boy asked from the corner couch.

"Edmund!" Susan scolded.

"I'm only saying what we're all thinking!" The dark-haired boy scowled.

It had been almost six months since their mother's accident. She had been helping the community project, rebuilding ruined building's from the height of the Blitz. They had not realised the full horror of the attacks, having been away with the professor for over a year, but on their return the ruin and devastation had been evident. It was a noble cause, but a dangerous one. A unexploded bomb discovered in the wreckage had gone off. Peter had been there with his mother, he had sustained a broken arm and two broken ribs from the blast. Their mother had been less fortunate.

Peter was about to give a sharp reply, but with one look at the truly miserable faces of his younger siblings, he turned and sighed. "I don't know Ed, it's been a long time. There's always hope though."

Susan glanced at Lucy who was staring out the window apparently transfixed by the rain and shifted uncomfortably and looked back at her brothers. "I spoke to a doctor last week." She admitted. Collectively they glanced at the snoring elderly lady resting in the rocking chair behind them. The doctors would usually only speak in hushed voices to their ailing grandmother about their mother's condition, while patting them patronisingly on the shoulder. Hence the letter-snooping.

"How?" Peter asked surprised. "I didn't see him talk to you."

Edmund and Lucy were now watching her intently too. Susan shrugged. "It was a new one, he didn't recognise me, just walked right into me and made me drop my book. I wasn't in school uniform and when he asked me who I was there to see, I thought it was worth a try and he was pretty forth coming" She was blushing furiously, but held her head high. She had no intention of telling them she had deliberately let him get an eyeful as he apologetically picked up her book for her and had been too flustered to think of questioning her. The collision and consequent book-dropping had been accidental, she had just taken advantage of the situation, besides it had worked and she had found out what they had wanted to know.

"And?" Lucy pressed, impatiently.

Susan sobered immediately. "He admitted that it's nearly unheard of for someone to recover from such injuries and she's already been in the coma for too long for any real hope of her waking up. He said three weeks in usually the cut off point."

There was silence for several long minutes, with exception of the breathy snores from the arm-chair. It had confirmed what they already suspected. Their mother, while still breathing, was effectively dead. Edmund held out his hand to Lucy who joined him on the couch while Peter stared thoughtfully into the fire as Susan studied him for a reaction.

"I think its time."


	3. Chapter 2: Inheritance

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.]

**AN:** **IMPORTANT NOTE.** I have edited the previous chapters, mostly grammer and spelling. The only **major change** is the time the story is set. It now begins in September instead of May, the beginning of Harry's Sixth year as this seemed more appropriate, however, this shouldn't overly effect what you have already read. Also, while I try to remain faithful to the Narnia world, I am only using the two movies as the context for this fic, therefore major deviations from th later books etc. will likely occur.

**Chapter 2 - ****Inheritance**

Harry Potter was pacing the empty office nervously, Fawkes was watching him interestedly from his perch. It had been twenty minutes since Harry had sped to a halt on his broomstick outside the gargoyle guardian, after sprouting what felt like the names of hundreds of sweets, it had finally sprung aside to 'galaxy' and Harry had careered into the headmaster's office interrupting the old Wizard's chess game.

"I'm sorry Peeves," Albus addressed the poltergeist calmly, "we shall have to continue this later." The ghost stuck out his tongue, then grinned and dived through the nearest wall.

After a rushed explanation, a stern warning not to leave his office. Dumbledore had left him alone with a promise to return shortly, no doubt to attend to the currently still unconscious professor lying in the second floor corridor. Suddenly, Fawkes cocked his head to one side and chirped. Sure enough only moments later Harry could footsteps ascending towards the office. The old wizard entered with McGonagall and Snape in tow.

"Sit Harry," Albus gestured, as he condured two extra seats and sat down himself behind the centuries old wooden desk. "Tea?" He inquired. Harry politely declined while Dumbledore helped himself. "Now Harry, we'll need to hear this prophesy first hand, to be sure we don't miss anything."

Harry nodded anxiously and took a deep breath. Snape moved to a far cabinet and retrieved a familiar looking pensive. Giving Harry a glare, he set down on the desk in front of him. Casting his mind back to his encounter in the corridor, Harry tried to completely focus on that moment before raising his wand to his temple and with drawing the silvery memory, dropping it into the pensive.

The other's all reached out a hand towards the bowl and in a moment had disappeared leaving Harry once again alone in the Headmaster's office. Glancing round the room in boredom, he watched as Fawkes trilled at him and flew to a cabinet at the back of the clustered office. He began pecking at the door insistently. Intrigued, Harry got up and approached the phoenix. "What is it, Fawkes?" He asked. Fawkes trilled a response and continued pecking. Harry glanced behind him guiltily, it would be mere moments before they returned and Harry knew he should really have learned his lesson about snooping by now, yet he couldn't resit his own curiosity. Swiftly, he pulled open the cabinet door, to find nothing but two bare, cob-webbed and very dusty shelves. Sighing he was about to close the door again when he noticed an equally dusty small pouch in the bottom corner. Reaching out he plucked it from its resting place just as stumbles could be heard coming from behind him. Mentally cursing Harry whipped around, but it was too late. Snape had seen him.

Snarling, Snape approached him swiftly attracting the attention of his other professor's. "What are you doing Potter?"

"Nothing!" Harry exclaimed, going red. He knew he must have guilty written all over his face.

Snape face darkened, he looked about to strangle him. "What have you got Potter? Not trying to steal from the Headmaster are you? Poking around in his personal belongings! I can't say I'm at all surprised, although I had hoped you'd matured some, obviously you are still the spoiled brat you always were!" Harry was hurt by that, he and Snape couldn't be called friends at even a stretch, but it had been a long time since he'd said such a bitting remark and it only made Harry even more guilty about his current predicament.

Advancing towards the boy, Snape put on his most terrifying glare. "Give. It. To Me." He spat out.

Unhelpfully, the only reply his mind could currently think of was: _Sorry Professor, you're really not my type. _Giving himself a mental slap, about to concede defeat and face the punishment, he tried to bring his hand in front of him to give up his finding, but something seemed to stop him and his limbs wouldn't move and his head went all fuzzy. "No." He replies thickly through the haze. This completely surprised him, in fact from the furious look of Snape's face and the astounded looks of McGonagall and Dumbledore, it had completely surprised them too. _Shit. _He thought, _you're in BIG trouble now!_

Cautiously, Dumbledore approached them giving Snape a warning glance, he gently spoke in a concerned voice. "What is it Harry?".

Harry shook his head, he couldn't think through the haze. Taking a deep breath, trying to control his breathing, which hadn't even realised had been laboured. Opening his mouth he tried to speak, but not words came out. Much to his surprise, Snape too was starting to look concerned, backing up a few steps to let the headmaster get a closer look at the struggling boy. Harry found he was finding it easier to breathe once again and noticed that the Headmaster had noticed the cabinet door behind him which was still slightly ajar.

Astounded, Dumbledore looked up sharply. He was looking at Harry in an odd way, like he hadn't really seen him before. "You opened the cabinet door?" He asked for confirmation.

Harry thought this an odd question, since the cupboard door was clearly open and Snape had obviously caught him red-handed in the process of removing its contents. "Yes," He admitted guiltily.

Dumbledore starred at him for moment, then he spoke quietly, as through talking to himself, "Of course you did." Harry frowned. The headmaster was acting very strangely, Harry had been privy to 'small chats' with Dumbledore for six years now and was used to Dumbledore keeping secrets and twinkling his eyes at him as if he was all-knowing, which Harry supposed, since the Headmaster was a very clever man he might well be. This however, was different. He had never seen the Headmaster truly astonished before. Surprised yes, when events didn't quiet turn out as predicted, but never truly astonished. Dumbledore was giving him a look, as though he was just piecing together the clues, as though he had just understood the enormity of the situation. Pulling himself together Dumbledore smiled, although it did not quite reach his eyes. "Right then Harry, why don't you show me your finding, I promise we will endeavor not to extract it from you."

Sighing in relief, because Harry had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't have been able to give it up if he'd wanted to, Harry showed them the pouch. It was made of dragon hide with several fairly clumsy repairs. Tipping it up its contents fell out onto his palm and Harry put the pouch aside to observe the object more closely. His professors were learning in for a closer look and Harry was having to fend off that hazy feeling again. It was a thin leather strap with something on the end of it. Holding it up out of his palm, there was an intake of breathe from the Headmaster and he nodded as if he suspicions were confirmed. Harry looked at the pendent in front of him. It was clearly very old, the strap had worn incredibly thin in paces and the brown leather had several dark stains on it. The stone was a deep purple, it was both stone and crystal woven together, it a slightly lopsided tear shape and was as smooth as a thousand year old river bed stone. There was no metal work, simply a smooth hole in the stone that the leather was tied through and the strap itself hand no clasp, the ends simply knotted firmly together. It was simple, rustic, inexpensive and completely breath-taking at the same time. Harry felt himself drawn to it, he could almost feel the stone responding to him.

McGonagall tentatively lifted a hand towards the hanging pendent, all four sets of eyes, completely transfixed. Harry felt the haziness starting to reappear and he suddenly wanted to back away from them, flea to some long abandoned classroom in the furthest corner of the castle. Dumbledore, the first to snap out of the trance, reflexively pulled back McGonagall's hand jolting the other's to his attention. "It is yours Harry. You may keep it."

Both professor turned to their Headmaster in surprise. "Professor?" His head of house questioned. Snape too was frowning, not fully understanding what had just transpired.

The headmaster re-took his seat gesturing for the others to do the same. Pouring himself another cup of tea, the headmaster took a sip and then addressed Harry. "That Harry, is The _Oculus Abacus, _which quite literally translates as 'The Soul Stone'."

Snape took in a sharp breathe. McGonagall spilled some of her tea and cursed, quickly dabbing the spillage up. The headmaster automatically handed her a handkerchief without taking his eyes of Harry and the stone.

Both Snape and Harry spoke at once. "Are you sure Albus?" "I don't understand."

The headmaster sighed and conjured up a vial. Making a copy of Harry's pensive memory, he transferred it to the vial and stoppered it gently placing it back on the desk gently. "You may take back your memory now Harry, Thank you."

Harry blinked then quickly retrieved the memory, he had completely forgotten why he was there in the first place, the prophesy. However, the head master was obviously no yet finished with his explanation and Harry pushed the thought away and absentminded took the lemon drop offered to him.

"I am certain, Severus. I am also not surprised, that my words hold no meaning for you my dear boy, however, you undoubtedly noticed the surprised response form your professors." The headmaster continued. Harry nodded. "The Soul Stone is wizarding myth Harry. A legend that travels through time, since the first wizarding birth, the moment the magic was pasted from the earth to humans and with it comes fairy tales told for thousands of years to our children and grandchild. The reason you would not have heard of it."

Harry nodded, he knew he had missed out on a lot growing up in a muggle family, at times he resented it, but he understood. Besides, his friends where great and this was the one area that Ron was more knowledgeable than Hermione, not for lack of her trying. However, with eleven years of wizarding childhood on her and a family with centuries of tradition, Ron had taught them both a lot about history, legend, etiquette, politics and wizarding tradition.

Looking at the unusual stone in his hand, he asked "What is it made of?"

The headmaster smiled, leaning forward. "A very very rare substance in deed. The stone type itself has no name, although the muggles have named it Majorite on their discovery in the 1970's. It is so rare because it is created from pressure and heat so extreme that it is only found 250 miles below the Earth's surface, or in a meteorite impact, as with the Coorara meteorite found by the muggles in Australia."

Harry frowned confused. "So this necklace was made by muggles in the 1970's?" Snape groaned, how could the boy be so slow and still manage to make it into his potions class this year.

The Headmaster simply looked amused. "No no, my dear boy. As I said, the myth is millenia old, since the very beginning of recorded history, probably from before. How your stone came into being is unknown, although I would hazard a guess that it too was from a meteorite and when it was carved out by a muggle human it transferred the Earth's magic to its wearer and so the beginning of wizards began."

Harry sat back astonished, then a thought occurred to him and he started to chuckle uncontrollably. His professor's viewed him with concern. "Oh My God," he choked out, "Superman is true!"

The three professor's glanced at each other in complete confusion, seeing their expression, Harry sobered up and muttered sheepishly. "Sorry, err...muggle thing. Nevermind."

It was McGonagall that spoke next, "So the stories, Albus, so you think they are true?"

The headmaster contemplated her question for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, mostly. There is some written evidence and I know that cabinet has not opened for anyone since the founder's departed. It is time and I think perhaps, we should consider this prophesy too."

Harry looked up at this, storing the snippets of information he'd just gained. "What's going to happen with that by the way?"

The Headmaster took out a sheet of brown paper and wrapped the vial carefully. He then he wrote a quick note walked over to Fawkes who took both items and disappeared in a fiery ball. "It will go to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry, they are attempting to recreate their destroyed prophesy bank." Harry had the good sense to look thoroughly guilty, he hadn't really contemplated the damage they had caused last year. He tried not to think to much about that particular adventure, the memories were still too fresh and too painful.

"Now, to this prophesy. I think perhaps it shouldn't be shared with the Order until we are a bit more sure of its meaning. Prophesies can be such horribly misleading things." The Headmaster stated, business like once again. He took a piece of paper and wrote down the prophesy word for word. "Any thoughts?"

HPNHPNHPNHPN

The Pevensie's were on their hands and knees in the small, crowded attic. They were looking for a box. A trunk to be precise with a box in it. It belonged to their farther and had been given to their mother to keep safe. If their father did not return from the war, then their mother was to pass it on to them as their inheritance for Peter's sixteenth Birthday. Their father had crowded them all together in Lucy and Susan's small room and had told them this as he said their goodbyes, with a special word to Peter.

As Peter picked up a dusty pile of photos he saw the happiness in his father's eyes which had not been seen that day and remembered his father's words:

"_You are still a child Peter, my eldest, but when I'm am gone, things will change and you will have to learn to become a man. It will be hard, but I promise that you will not be alone. Take care of you siblings Peter, and cherish your time with you mother she is a good woman." Finally, he had hugged him tight and whispered, "I don't know when I'll be coming back Peter, I had a dream last night and I think this might be out final goodbye." Peter could no longer hold back the tears, his other siblings had cried, Ed had be furious, but had still hugged his father and cried, but Peter could not seem to find the tears until now. "Shush," His father comforted him, "You must be strong __now. Remember what I told you all Peter, there will come a time and you will know."_

Their father had been away for three years now and they had not heard a word for almost two years. Peter had turned sixteen in February, two months before their mother's accident. Yet their mother had refused to loose hope, as had his siblings. Their father might still return and she would not allow them the trunk. Somehow, Peter knew that his father's words had been true, he would not be returning. After his mother's accident all thoughts of the trunk and mysterious box had been forgotten, but six months later and after Lucy and Ed's most recent adventure, the thoughts began to surface again. When Sue had told him that there was no hope for their mother, he knew it was time.

"I think I found it." Edmund had pulled aside a rocking horse and a broken dolls house, which their father had always promised the seven year old Lucy he would fix it, but then the war had broken out and he had left.

"Let me see!" Lucy exclaimed excitedly, crouching down on the dusty floor next to Ed. The elder siblings joined them and Peter helped his brother pull open the lid of the ancient looking trunk. It was big almost four feet long and two feet in height and depth. The wood was so old it was stained and cracked in places and there were hundreds of tiny holes from long gone woodworm. Inside lay an assortment of objects. There were several dusty leather-bound tombs, a large amount of half disintegrated thick yellow paper and a large lump of chalky slate, along with a wooden rustic cane the length of the trunk and a pile of moth eaten fabric. No box could be seen.

"It must be under something," Susan deduced.

Lucy reached froward a tentative hand and touched the paper. It turned to dust beneath her fingered to reveal a handful of ratty feather quills. "Oops."

"It all looks so old," Ed said, "Look those are actual quills."

Peter gently lent in and pushed the fabric aside, it too was disintegrating, but in slightly better condition. "Who do you suppose this belonged to?"

"Father?" Lucy asked, confused.

Susan shook her head, "These are too old to be Dad's, maybe his father, or even a much more distant relative."

Peter leaned in when he saw something on the cloth, "Look, its a coat of arms."

"Someone royal?" Lucy asked excitedly.

Peter shrugged studying it closer. "Maybe. It says 'Hogwarts' at the top and 'Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus' and there's four animals, a lion, a bird, a badger and a snake."

"What?" Susan asked, she had always been good at Latin. "Never tickle a sleeping Dragon? What kind of motto is that?"

"A school motto apparently." Edmund looked smug he was pointing at the first page of one of the tombs, "I know who this belonged to too. Arthur Pevensie, s_tudiosus magice, MDCCLIV._ Student of magic, 1754."

"WOW," Lucy peered at the faded ink. "That's amazing. Wait, aren't sorcerers bad? The white witch, she was very bad."

Peter thought for a moment, "Maybe they're not all bad Lucy, just her. Besides, he's long gone now, I don't think he can do us any harm and Father would never have told us if he'd thought we'd have been in danger."

The mention of their father brought their thoughts back to the box. Pushing the rest of the clothing aside, Peters fingers brushed against a hard object. Removing the box from the trunk he held it up to the lantern. It was square about four inches in length and half an inch deep with something tied to it. It was covered in dust and Peter gently blew revealing the polished ebony wood. Unlike the rest of the items, the box looked untouched with age, the polish as shiny as the day it had been applied and no scratch or mark on it. Undoing the string fastening he removed a folded piece of leather front the top, pulling aside the folds, it revealed a letter.

"Well?" Lucy asked, "What does it say?"

Peter set down the box and with slightly shaky fingers picked up the paper note. He recognised their father's handwriting at once. "It's from father. It says:"

"_If you are reading this children, then I am sadly no-longer with you. I have known this day would come since my own childhood. This box has been handed done as the Pevensie's for hundreds of years. This box comes with secrets beyond all others and you will do well to bear its contents with pride and respect. The box could not be opened for hundreds of years, but its significance not lost. When I turned sixteen I had a vision from the past and of the future and I saw your destiny as clear as day and I knew you would be very special and I knew what I had to do. Remember, while you have each other, you are not alone. _

_Say goodbye to your mother for me,_

_With the greatest love, _

_Your Father."_

They all sat in silence for a while. This was goodbye from their Father, they would never hear from him again. It felt so definite and so confusing at the same time. Ed took the note from Peter,staring at the words, running his fingers down the edge of the paper. Finally, he looked up.

"Well? If you're not going to open it I will." Ed ended the silence.

All eyes were back as the box as Peter swiftly picked it up. There was a collective intake of breathe as he gently opened the case. A piece of folded parchment lay inside. Removing it from the case, there was a gasp as it's contents was revealed. Four crystal stones starred back at them, different in colour, but roughly the same size and shape, each with it's own silver chain.

Quickly, Peter unfolded the parchment, which unlike th trunks contents was perfectly preserved. Frowning he passed it to Susan, "It's all in Latin."

The was an impatient silence as Susan studied the text. "Some of it's a little complicated, but I think it says:"

"_Only the true will open the box, you are true. _

_Put the little stones on, one for each and four will become one._

_Guardians of the soul, believe and you will see."_

Susan looked up at the excited and confused faces of her siblings. "It's signed _Godric Griffindor, Annus MCXXV, _Year 1125."

....


	4. Chapter 3: Family

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.]

**AN:** **IMPORTANT NOTE.** I have edited the previous chapters, mostly grammer and spelling. The only **major change** is the time the story is set. It now begins in September instead of May, the beginning of Harry's Sixth year as this seemed more appropriate, however, this shouldn't overly effect what you have already read. Also, while I try to remain faithful to the Narnia world, I am only using the two movies as the context for this fic, therefore major deviations from th later books etc. will likely occur.

**Chapter 3**

**Family**

Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of his dorm mates preparing for breakfast. Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed, his limbs stiff from yesterdays Quidditch practice and Occlumency lesson. Entering their shared bathroom, he mumbled a good morning to Ron as he stepped into the shower room, locking the door behind him. Stripping quickly, he scowled at himself in the mirror, the bags under his eyes seemed more prominent than ever and his hair stuck up at odd angles.

His eyes dropped from his face to his chest and his hand came up lightly to brush the pendant that hung there. A tingle ran through his hand and down his spine as he did so and the stone's intricate patterns seemed to shift and change as though the stone itself was remolding itself. It was truly the most beautiful object Harry had ever seen and the power he could feel seeping from it told him it was also probably the most precious object he was likely to ever own. He was both amazed and pleased that Dumbledore would give him such a gift and yet in a way, it felt as though it had always belonged to him.

_Oculus Abacus, _The Soul Stone, Dumbledore had called it. Harry smiled as he ran his finger over the smooth surface, then frowned as he remembered the Headmaster's reaction to Harry's finding. He had seen a glint in the Headmaster's eye, along with the astonishment as he had held the pendant out in front of him. Despite the panic he had been feeling at the time, which he was uncertain what the cause of was, he had still been able to clearly read the old man's emotions. It had been longing he'd seen in the man's eyes, mixed together with envy, fear, pride and pity. It had scarred Harry to see so many emotions in the old man's face, he was so used to Albus being unreadable, in control, even manipulative to an extent. To see him so open, like a book, was something Harry had never expected to see.

Taking a deep breath, Harry shook himself from those thoughts and turned toward the shower. Stopping, he ran his finger over the rough leather strap that kept the pendant in place. The leather seemed so old, he worried that it could break at any minute, but at the same time Harry couldn't bare to take it off. Making a decision, Harry stepped under the warm water and marveled as the droplets landed on the leather, but ran off, leaving the thong perfectly dry. Smiling, Harry grabbed the soap and began humming to himself.

Half an hour later the golden trio was sat at the Griffindor table tucking into breakfast. Hermione sat across from him, scribbling away at a notepad with a muggle pen and to his right Ron was lent forward listening intently to him, while stuffing more bacon into his mouth.

"...and then Dumbledore went all weird and made us all sit down and said I could keep it." Harry recounted his tale of the previous evenings events to his best friends.

"Well, let's see it then." Ron spoke round a large bit of bacon. Hermione made a face at him, but she too seemed keen to see his 'gift'.

Grinning Harry pulled the pendant from where he wore it beneath his robes and let it hang in front of him. It's deep purple colour seemed to draw in the light from around it, while lighter swirls danced within its centre.

"Wow." Ron mumbled, then swallowed his bacon as Hermione scowled at him and tried again. "Thats wicked, Harry!"

Hermione nodded, she seemed transfixed by it. "It's, absolutely beautiful. I've never seen anything like it..."

Ron nodded, "That must be magical mate, I mean you can almost feel it, and the way it sort of sucks you in..."

Harry was getting that dizzy feeling again as Hermione lent forward for a better look.

"Please don't touch it!" Harry blurted out. Then felt bad, as Hermione looked hurt. "Sorry, its just...it makes me feel panicky when anyone gets too close."

Hermione frowned at that, "Are you sure its not dangerous Harry, did you tell Dumbledore that?"

Harry shook his head, "I think he knew though, he stopped McGonagall from touching it and I really don't think he would have given it to me if it was dangerous."

Hermione nodded satisfied. "So, do you know what exactly it is, does it do anything?"

Harry frowned at that, "Actually I don't know." Hermione looked disappointed. "I mean I know what it is," Harry corrected himself, "But I don't actually know what it does."

"Well?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore called it the _Oculus Abacus, _he said it means the Soul Stone." Harry told them.

Ron dropped his fork, his half full mouth hanging open. Hermione blinked twice.

"What?" Harry asked, confused. Hermione looked, excited like she did when she'd been given a new book, Ron on the other hand looked astonished, like he'd heard Harry wrong. Hermione looked at Ron and frowned.

"It's an old wizarding fairytale isn't it?" Hermione asked, also confused by Ron's reaction.

It took Ron a moment to recover, but then he placed his folk down with a serious face. "It's much more than that," Seeing Hermione's confused face, Ron continued, "I mean, yes it is a fairytale, every wizarding child knows the story, but, its more than that. You rarely hear about it, its only ever mentioned in passing, but everyone knows its part of something bigger, its sacred."

"You mean its part of some religious following?" Hermione asked.

"Well, if thats what you want to call it, then I suppose so, but its not like all that stuff Dad says the muggles believe in." Ron explained.

"Dumbledore said it was about the beginning of magic." Harry remembered.

Ron nodded, then put on his story-telling voice. "The legend goes that thousands of years ago a meteorite landed and hit the Earth so hard that it caused a great hole and hurt the Earth causing her to bleed. It is said that a group of hunters came across the hole and brought their tribal leader to it. Seeing that the Earth was in such pain, the tribal leader cried tears of sadness which hit the bare stones putting out the flames and healing the earth. The earth was was so grateful and touched by the man's kindness that before she completely healed, she bleed into the stone beneath the man's hands. Feeling the power in the stone beneath him and understanding the Earth's gift to him, he carved out a small piece of the stone and tied it around his neck so he could keep it close to his heart. In doing so the earth's magic seeped into him and touched his heart, binding with his soul forever."

"Wow." Harry stroked the stones surface feeling the power beneath his fingers.

"So basically, you're saying that wizards believe that the Earth has magic built into it and before wizards existed, there was only muggles until, somehow, the magic from the earth was passed into a muggle creating the first wizard." Hermione rationalized.

Ron, "Well yes, but the story's meant to be literal, like the elder and stone actually existed."

Hermione frowned, "If it happened so long ago how could the story still have remain so in-tacked, all stories become convoluted with time. It's like Chinese Whispers, and besides that, you mean to tell me the Earth was actually bleeding?"

Ron scowled at Hermione as though this was obvious, "Well obviously wizards have more accurate ways of recording history, even thousands of years ago, wizards still had the ability to carve magical pictures into rocks to preserve history."

Harry nodded, that would make sense, but like Hermione he'd heard a lot of folk stories as a child and understood that they were not meant to be taken literally, the idea of the earth bleeding was a bizarre thought.

Ron continued, "As for the Earth bleeding, its supposed to refer to the magic. Anyway you're missing the bigger picture, Harry is holding probably the most valuable, sacred object in the whole of the wizarding world."

Looking down at the smooth stone in his hand, Harry had a nagging feeling that his troubles were only beginning.

"I'd put it away, Harry" Hermione urged him. "I think it's best we keep this to ourselves for now."

Nodding, Harry slipped the stone away, feeling its cool surface against his chest.

HPNHPNHPNHPNHPNHPN

Peter woke early on Saturday morning, startled from the depths of a dream to the sound of Edmund and Susan arguing over the bathroom. Mumbling in annoyance, Peter rolled over and shifted further down under his blanket trying to block out the noise. His peace was short-lived as a hefty object slammed down onto his legs.

"Erg?" Peter groaning, as he looked up blearily into the darkened room. The heavy object removed itself and bounced noisily across the room. Bright light suddenly lit up the room, causing Peter to blink furiously and clutch his aching head.

"Wakey wakey! It's Saturday" A red-brunette figure announced cheerfully. "And we're going on an adventure."

"Lucy?" Peter groaned. "What time is it?"

The girl grinned happily, "Almost 10 O'Clock, you've been sound asleep all morning, I've been bored."

Sighing Peter sat up in bed, "Come here then." He held out his hands for his younger sister as she climbed into bed next to him and gave her a sleepy hug.

"Sorry. Must have been really tired." Peter mumbled, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. It was unusual for him to sleep so late. Both him and Lucy, were early birds and morning was their special time. Peter loved his little sister very much and could barely comprehend how hard it must be growing up without a mother or father. It was hard for all of them, but Lucy was still so young, not even in her teens yet. During the week, when they were at boarding school, Peter and Edmund didn't often see their sisters, who went to the neighboring girls school. At weekends, when they were home, Peter and Lucy took advantage of the early mornings when they could play together undisturbed by their sleeping siblings. Peter enjoyed Lucy's company, but he also felt she deserved a time when she got some attention to herself, a time when Peter played both brother and father for her. They had planned to make a volcano together for Lucy's art project.

"That's okay, you looked really peaceful." Lucy smiled, hugging him back. "Besides, we haven't got time for all that today. We're going on an adventure."

The previous events came swiftly back to him and Peter sat up straighter, wide awake now. "The pendants." He glanced over at the mahogany box, it was in the same place he'd left it he night before, on his bed side desk.

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing the box and handing it to her brother. Gently opening it and removing the parchment, he and Lucy looked, spellbound, at its contents. They had looked the pendants over carefully, each trying various ones and talking late into the night. They hadn't really known what to do with them, but it seemed obvious that something bigger was intended for them and the pendants were a part of that. Peter had half expected them to be transported away the moment they put them on, but nothing had happened. Lucy, however seemed adamant that some soft of adventure was about to start.

"Hey." Susan and Edmund entered the room, unlike Lucy, who was fully dressed and probably had breakfast hours ago, Susan and Edmund looked like they'd just got out of bed. Susan was still in her night dress and was running a comb through her hair, while Edmund had his shirt hanging out of his trousers and his hair was sticking up all over the place. Susan smiled at the sight of her two siblings in bed.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" Peter asked, closing the box and setting it aside.

Edmund shook his head. "We only just got up. Has Lucy told you about her dream?"

Peter looked a Lucy in askance, as Susan and Ed sat down on his brother's bed across the room. Lucy looked at him excitedly. "I was trying to tell you, but you were a bit sleepy."

Peter smiled at her childish enthusiasm. "I'm awake."

Edmund, who couldn't wait, spoke first, "She had a dream about the pendants."

"Shush," Susan nudged him, "Let Lucy tell him, she's been wanting to all morning." Ed grumbled, but then shrugged his shoulders and grinned good naturally.

Peter turned back to Lucy as she recounted her dream to him. "It was a bit confusing, but it was the middle of the night and we heard something, it woke me and Susan up. We came in here and you were both awake too. It was like we knew what to do already. We put on the pendants, held hands and then we were in a different place."

"Narnia?" Peter asked.

Lucy frowned, "I guess so. I didn't recognise it though. It was a a room full of things, like when we moved house, crates and trunks everywhere. It was a stone room, but it had a window."

"The palace?" Edmund asked, excitedly.

Lucy nodded, "Maybe, it was like that."

Susan stood up and started pacing, she stopped suddenly. "You said it had a window."

Lucy nodded again.

"Did you see what was outside?" She prompted.

"No." Lucy replied, "All I remember seeing was the sky. Then I woke up."

"Well." Ed, moved towards the mahogany box and gently opening it. "Shall we give it a go?"

All four of the looked excitedly at each other, that magically feeling was in the air again.

"Oh." Susan muttered. All eyes looked towards her. "I mean, we really ought to get dressed first."

Peter looked down at himself and his own night clothes. "Way to break the mood," Edmund laughed.

Susan flushed, "Well its just that we don't want to end up in Narnia trying to fight some evil queen or foreign invaders in our undergarments do we."

Lucy giggled, her hand over he mouth. The three older siblings grinned at each other and began laughing. Peter jumped out of bed and picked up a pillow. "On Guard!" He exclaimed at Ed. His brother whipped up a second pillow and faced Peter seriously, then all hell broke loose as Peter and Ed engaged in a lively pillow fight as their sisters ran round the room laughing at them.

HPNHPNHPNHPNHPNHPN

Harry lay on his back listening to the sounds of his friends squabbling and the gentle ripple of the lake as he looked up at the golden-tinged leaves of the oak tree above him. It was late morning and the September sun shone brightly through the leaves, its warm rays hitting his face as the small breeze picked at his hair, making it even messier than usual.

Hermione sat next to him pouring over a piece of parchment, quill pressed thoughtfully against the her lower lip, as Ron commented on something she'd written. Harry had told them about the prophesy along with the stone and now they were trying to decipher some of its meaning.

" '_When the stones are gifted...', _that must be in reference to the soul stone, its too much of a coincidence." Ron argued.

"Yes, it must be, but what i'm saying is that it says 'stones' not 'stone'. It's talking about more than one of them." Hermione repeated, stressing her point.

"But there's only one Soul Stone!" Ron argued, heatedly.

Hermione huffed, "How do you know? You don't, not for certain. Even if there is only one, maybe its not talking about the soul stone at all."

"Erg!" Ron grumbled. "Now you're just trying to confuse me."

Hermione smiled at him gently, some of the wind lost from her sails. "I know. Thats the problem with prophesies they're so unspecific. We can't rule anything out and we can't make too many assumptions. But I think we can assume that the soul stone has something to do with it and since Harry has it and Trewllawny told him the prophesy, we can assume Harry has something to do with it."

"Great." Harry muttered. Hermione smiled, apologetically.

Sitting up, Harry sighed, resigned to what ever fate was going to throw at him next. "Ok, '... _and the sound of war is cried', _I guess that's obvious, we are at war with Voldermort. What about the next bit? '..._the guardians shall step through time to their sorcerer and defy'_? What's that supposed to mean?"

Ron paled. "You don't think it means that You-Know-Who is going to get more followers to join him do you?"

Hermione took a deep breath of frustration. "I don't know. It's not at all clear."

Harry chewed his bottom lip nervously. "I don't like to think that Voldermort has any guardians and if he does, you can bet they're going to be something really horrific. Like a dark army of dementors or something."

All three of them shuddered at the thought. Harry groaned inwardly, this just wasn't going to be a quiet year was it? They were barely a week into term and already he could feel something big and terrible about to happen.

Hermione sat forward excitedly. "Maybe that's not what it means. Read the next line. It says '_For the Dark Lord cannot be vanquished unless the magician becomes the mage and the four are the key to the power of the age.' _It talks about vanquishing Voldermort, not him gaining more power. This magician becoming the mage, that could be you Harry, coming into you powers, when you came of age."

Ron nodded, "That makes sense, except that mage's aren't normal wizards, they're like Merlin and Grindawald, they're extremely powerful and you don't just come into power, not that much power anyway, its supposed to take years."

Harry looked at the lines on the parchment, "So what you're saying is that it could just as easily be about Voldermort gaining more power."

Ron looked at his best mate, he looked so forlorn, but resigned to his horrible fate. "I guess, but maybe it has to happen before you can vanquish him. Maybe, gaining more power will give him a great weakness too."

Harry smiled weakly at his friend's attempts to cheer him up. Yet the idea of Voldemort having any more power than he already had was scary to say the least.

Trying to get his mind off it, Hermione plunged on with the decoding. "Ok, well I guess we don't know what the four refer to for now, obviously they aren't literal keys, but are somehow going to give power." She deduced. "This next bit is a bit strange, '_They shall be valiant, just, gentle, magnificent and together it shall be seen and they shall bring him to his rightful place at the table of thirteen.'_

Ron took over as Hermione seemed deep in thought, "The way it says 'they', it sounds like people, maybe the four are wizards?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes...probably. '..._rightful place at the table of thirteen.' _I recognise that. It's popular in many myths and legends. Jesus was said to have twelve disposals and they sat at a table together for the last supper, making thirteen."

Ron frowned, "Is that a muggle thing?"

Hermione looked a little shocked at first, but launched into lecture mode, "Its a central belief in one of the most dominant muggle religions in the world. It's very famous."

Ron still looked confused, but nodded to stop any further lecturing. Harry himself remembered the last supper from his time at the local primary school and he'd suffered through various lectures from Aunt Marge on his wicked ways and future place in Hell, although the Dursley's had not been religious, and as far as Harry knew they're only time in a church was for their marriage.

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "That's not the only reference to a table of thirteen. King Arthur was said to have had a round table built for him and his knights, that too was supposed to have thirteen places. It's more likely to refer to that, since Arthur and Merlin were linked and Merlin has a lot more to do with the wizarding world than muggle religions ever have. Of course, it could have nothing to do with either of them, the table might not be literal at all. There are plenty of references to the number thirteen in the wizarding world."

Harry groaned again and flopped back down on the grass. Turning his head towards the blue-grey water of the lake he watched as the breeze rippled the surface. They were never going to figure this out.

Retiring to the great hall for lunch and then the library, they researched late into the afternoon on wizarding mythology and the possible meanings of the prophesy. While Ron and Hermione we getting into the swing of things, happy for a new adventure, Harry just couldn't dig up the enthusiasm he once had for such things. Ever since Sirius had died, Harry felt like there was a whole he needed to fill, a piece of him missing. The last thing he felt he needed was another disastrous adventure that ended up in someone dying. Harry tried to turn his thoughts away from the Department of Mysteries fiasco, all he wanted this year was a nice quite Voldemort free year, no adventures, just Quidditch and NEWT work.

That wish had already been shattered, even before he'd arrived back at Hogwarts. Only two weeks into the summer holidays he had been contacted by Dumbledore to say he'd receive special training over the summer in DADA. At first, he had been overwhelmed with happiness, the thought of getting away from the Dursley's and the cold silence of his bare room was wonderful. Then he had realised he would need to go back to Hogwarts, or maybe even worse, to the Order Headquaters, Grimmauld Place, neither place Harry could bare to be around in his grieving state and he had flat out refused to go. In the end they had come to an arrangement and Harry had trained every other day with Snape and Moody over the summer in an Auror safe house instead.

Then, almost half way through summer, when Harry had begun to settle into the routine and deal with his overwhelming grief, the visions had started. The first week had been the worse, he had barely slept and with his body, so unused to the sleep deprivation, he had collapsed twice. The pain he felt every time Voldemort entered his dreams was excruciating, he could actually feel the pain of those that were suffering beneath Voldemort's wand. Now, over a month later, he still had visions almost every night, even a dreamless sleep potion would not keep them away. Voldemort just found more and more new ways to torment his victims and through them, Harry. Although the pain had not eased and sleep was no easier, Harry had become more accustomed to the pain and sleep deprivation. He had taken to having random naps in the daytime, using less harmful alertness potions in the day and often tried various new potions Snape concocted up during the night in an attempt to stop the visions.

Now there seemed to be something else Voldemort had planned, if that was what the prophesy was trying to tell them, and like always, it appeared Harry was in going to be in the centre of it. Sighing, Harry lay his head down on the table and within moments, he was gently snoring on top of the ancient tomb he had been studying.

Hermione looked over Harry's head at Ron, "Poor, Harry," She whispered, "I wish there was something we could do. Has he slept much?"

Ron shook his head, "Don't think he's had much sleep at all the last two days, I heard him throwing up in the loo last night, but I didn't want to disturb him, he gets really embarrassed and agitated."

Hermione sighed. "Talking of upsetting Harry, I saw Malfoy looking over early, I really hope he doesn't say anything, I don't think Harry could handle that right now."

Ron scowled. "You think he knows? About Sirius, I mean?"

"You can bet on it," Hermione replied, gently placing her book down, so as not to wake Harry. "I bet his father told him everything. I'm actually surprised he hasn't been over to gloat. Than again, maybe even Malfoy isn't that bad, at least I hope not. That's all Harry needs right now."

Ron snarled, quietly. "Slimy ferret. If he says one word, I'll deck him."

Hermione nodded in conviction. "Right after me." Ron gave her a smile, there were times when he really loved Hermione, right now was one of them. "Come on, let's see how much of this we can work out before Harry wakes up."


	5. Chapter 4: Awakening

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.

**Chapter 4**

**Awakening**

After a quick breakfast, the four Pevensie's sat around the kitchen table looking at the four pendants in the box. Susan gently reached forward and picked up a silver chain, from it hung a flawless green crystal, about two centre meters in length and shaped like a teardrop. The silver-work that attached the crystal to the chain was both exquisite and elegant, the pendant was no doubt very expensive.

"It's kind of like the necklace great aunt Mary used to wear, but not as big." Susan said, remembering the large amethyst that hung from the old lady's neck on a heavy Victorian chain.

Edmund frowned, then asked; "They're different, do you think we're supposed to have a specific one?"

Peter ran his finger over the deep blue crystal, thoughtfully, "The notes didn't say anything. How are we supposed to know?"

"Why don't we just try each of them on," Lucy suggested, "And see what happens."

With nervous excitement they each retrieved a pendant. "Maybe we should count down and put them on at the same time?" Peter suggested.

"Three, Two, One!" They all placed the pendants over their heads, Lucy had her eyes screwed up in concentration.

Nothing happened, Lucy opened her eyes, and then sighed in disappointment. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "I know! I know! My dream, we have to wear the ones we were wearing in my dream!"

Susan nodded, "Okay, we might as well give it go. So do you remember?"

"I remember wearing the yellow one." Lucy told them, picking up the crystal and placing it around her neck. "You were wearing the blue one Susan." Peter and Susan swapped so that Peter now had the green crystal. "Okay, now you and Edmund swap." Finally, Edmund took the green pendant from his brother, exchanging it for the red one he had been wearing. Taking in a deep breath they all waiting anxiously as the boys put the pendants on.

Nothing happened.

"This is useless!" Edmund announced in frustration. "Maybe they're not supposed to do anything at all. Maybe they were just gifts from dad to remember us by."

"No." Susan shook her head. "Dad never saw them, he couldn't open the box remember, they're family heirlooms that no one else has been able to open since 1125AD! They must do something!"

Peter shook his head confused, "Maybe its just not the right time yet."

"That's it!" Susan exclaimed. Her siblings looked at her for an explanation. "The right time...its not the right time. Lucy said that it happened at night. So maybe we need to wait until night time and then it will happen."

"How will we know?" Peter asked.

Lucy smiled, slipping the pendant under the neck of her dress, "We'll know, just keep them on and we'll come and find you when its time." Smiling, her siblings followed suit.

Clearing the breakfast things away, Susan turned to Peter and spoke quietly. "If it takes us somewhere, what if we don't come back? Or what if we're gone for a long time?" Peter, looked at her and set down the plate he had been holding, but Susan cut him off before he could speak. "I know we have nothing left to come back to and it would be easier on Grandmother anyway. I just..."

Peter nodded in understanding, the thought had occurred to him to. "We should go and say goodbye, this afternoon. Just in case."

Susan nodded, then she suddenly hugged Peter hard letting out a sob. Hugging his sister back, Peter let out a deep breathe. It had been hard for both of them these past six months, these past three years in truth. Peter hadn't felt like a child for many years now, something that seeing his mother die had made even worse. He knew that recently, Susan had begun to feel the same. It wasn't fair, they shouldn't have to be adults yet. A small part of Peter hoped that this adventure, whatever it was, would take them far away from here, back to Narnia where they could grow old in a magical land of fairytale, not the reality of a Blitzed-out war-torn London.

"Come on." Susan said, pulling away from her older brother and squeezing his hand in comfort. "Let's speak to Lucy and Ed."

HPNHPNHPNHPNHPNHPN

It was dinner time when Harry had finally been shaken awake by his friends.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked, as Harry had blinked awake and glanced around at the empty table.

"Sorry." Harry mumbled, guiltily.

Ron patted him on the back, sympathetically. "That's okay mate. We were going to tell you what we found out over dinner."

Sitting down to dinner, Harry was greeted by a cheery wave from Ginny and Neville. As he tucked into a bizarre, but very tasty dish of tomato, pesto, bacon and pasta, Hermione lent in and quietly told him about their afternoon's activities.

"...We think King Arthur and Merlin, were actually magically connected." She explained enthusiastically. "What's even more exciting is the mention of an old text called the keeper's tales, the book we were reading has translated a few latin paragraphs from the original text in it. It wasn't overly helpful, but it mentions a link to Hogwarts and we know that Merlin was around during the founder's time, although there has never been any solid link between them."

"How does this help us?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Thats what I said," Ron muttered.

Hermione ignored him and continued, "Keeper is another word for guardian, as mentioned in the prophesy and the fact that it links King Arthur and his thirteen seated table to the guardians could be the key to understanding the prophesy."

"So...What did the paragraph say?" Harry prompted.

Hermione looked less enthusiastic now. "Well, actually not much." She admitted. "The exstracts weren't whole and they seemed to be from some kind of diary. We really need to get our hands of the original Keeper's Tales." Hermione and Ron shared a glance.

Harry groaned, "What's the catch?"

Hermione continued, "Well...we looked it up and Hogwarts does have a copy..."

"It's in the restricted section." Ron explained. "It's too bad we can't all fit under your dad's cloak anymore." He had a look of almost nostalgia on his face.

"Of course, me or Ron could go instead if you'd rather get some sleep." Hermione quickly added.

Harry shook his head. "Na, thats Ok, this is my mess, as usual, I'll do it."

With a decision made, the trio left the library and headed to dinner in anticipation of the nights thieving.

HPNHPNHPNHPNHPNHPN

It was with heavy hearts that the Pevensie's left their London home and made the familiar route through the busy underground for the last time to visit their mother. Mary Rose, while a relatively plain lady, had a gentle beauty so obvious in her four children, which she kept with her even now in her eternal slumber. Peter watched as Susan holding the hand of a tearful Lucy explained to the Doctor their sudden imminent departure to live with a far distant Aunt who wished for them to attend a prestigious grammar school in the North. The doctor, who for some reason was blushing furiously and wouldn't look Susan in the eye, was more than accommodating and ushered the siblings into their mother's cubicle, drawing the curtains closed behind him.

Peter sunk into the chair next to his mother's iron bedstead. They had had a busy morning. Peter had gone to the bank and withdrawn the small amount of funds that where available to him. While ensuring that the remaining family money would be passed onto their elderly grandmother in the event of their unexpected disappearance. The was no proof that anything was going to happen at all tonight, just a dream and a feeling. Even if they were transported back to Narnia, it was most likely that no time would pass at all in the real world and no-one would be any the wisest of their latest adventure. This is what had always happened before. Somehow though, Peter felt this time would be different. Apparently the thought had also occurred to Susan and the one thing Peter had learned over the last few years was to trust his and his siblings instincts. If Lucy said they were going on an adventure, they were. If Susan didn't think they'd come back, then they wouldn't, and he thought this adventure was going to be different to their others, then it would be.

Approaching the sleeping beauty for the last time, he gently kissed his mother's forehead.

"Good bye, Mum. I will take care of them, I promise that with all my soul."

HPNHPNHPNHPNHPNHPN

Harry clutched his invisibility cloak further around him, a small piece of parchment held tightly in one hand. It was passed midnight and he'd had an uneventful trip so far. Reaching the relative safety of the library, he entered the restricted section and glanced at piece of parchment under the single lit candle.

_Custos narratio_

Scanning the shelves, Harry discovered the book he was looking for, a heavy leather-bond tomb, it's title inscribed in gold leaf across the binding and book face. Taking a step back Harry bumped into something large and hard.

"Ow!" The object complained.

Harry swung around, the blood draining from his face. The space immediately in front of his was devoid of any life, except for one hand, apparently detached from its body holding a black-bound book. On instinct, Harry grabbed at the invisible person with his free hand, trying to grasp the slippery material beneath his fingers. The intruder's other hand shot out and grabbed his own cloak, exposing his head.

"Potter. Typical."

Harry knew that drawl anywhere. He yanked firmly at the material, which slid away to reveal the head and shoulders of his intruder. Malfoy was sneering back at him. "You want to watch coming out after curfew Malfoy, you might get yourself caught." Harry quipped, he was in bad mood as it was and didn't want to deal with Malfoy right now.

Malfoy didn't look particularly upset, in fact he looked smug. "I heard about your godfather, Potter. I'm so sorry for your loss..."

Harry snarled. Sirius had been dead for months now and while he'd had the summer to deal with the loss, he still felt a huge amount of guilt over what had happened and coming back to Hogwarts bought back too many reminders for Harry to deal with.

"You're lucky you didn't loose you dad, with your aunt throwing all those killing curses around!" Harry exclaimed, angrily. "How can you be so cold-hearted! You've obviously never lost anyone you loved in you whole life...I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less from a Malfoy ... you probably don't even know how to love!"

Harry was so furious he was seeing red, he was so angry at Malfoy, and so hurt too. It didn't seem fair. Why was it always him and never anyone like Malfoy. Harry gripped his hands in fight fists feeling a storm of energy surge through him as if he was about to burst.

Malfoy, oblivious to Harry's dangerous state, angry and hurt by Harry's unexpected reply and the thought of his own father dying, he threw back his own insult. "Well, at least my father's not stupid enough to get himself killed, but then again, I hear your god father was only there to rescue you from your own stupidity. At least i've never gotten anyone killed, not like you. First your parents, then Cedric,then your Godfather...your getting quite some record! Stay away from Potter he's so special, he has special powers...at getting people killed!"

Harry gasped, raw power seemed to erupt from his body, great blinding light that hit Malfoy full on the chest, throwing him ten feet into the air and dumping against the nearest book shelf. The force had the shelf swaying precariously as Harry desperately struggled to get a hold ot himself, gasping for breath as shear power raked through his system. Horrified, Harry glanced at Malfoy, he was sitting up now, his eyes were slightly glazed and there was a small cut on his forehead. Otherwise, he seemed none the worse for wear. Blinking upward, Malfoy seemed surprised to see the shelf of books tittering on its edge swaying backwards and forwards,threatening to land on him. Harry knew he should move, should pull Malfoy out of the way, but he also knew if he had to go anywhere near Malfoy, he might loose the very fine control he had managed to gain over this unexplained raw power.

Malfoy seemed to realize his peril and shifted slightly, his legs knocking the shelf in an attempt to getup. The small movement seemed to push the shelf away from him as it swung towards the opposite book case. It hit with a enormous bang, causing books to scatter everywhere and the next shelf to fall, causing a domino effect of falling bookcases from one end of the enormous library to the other. The noise was horrendous, it must have woken half of Hogwarts, it was defiantly loud enough to warrant an investigation by Filch and a few teachers. Gasping for breath still and shaking with the barely constrained power. Harry shakily pulled his cloak back over his head and turned tail, running blindly through the corridors.

Harry was not paying attention to where he was going, his lungs where burning and he could barely run for shaking, but still he could not stop his blind panic. Portraits fell from walls and suits of armor collapsed as small bursts of magic escaped from him. At one point he heard voices and he headed in the opposite direction. Finally, he had to stop he was so out of breath, and his legs were shaking so badly he was ready to collapse. Leaning against the wall, he glanced around at the unfamiliar corridor. The uncontrollable power was now receding and his initial panic was wearing off. He was relieved to realize he had not dropped the book; the reason for his disastrous midnight trip. He needed to get back to the Griffindor Tower, but he had no idea where he was. The walls here were hung with tapestries he didn't recognise and dust covered marble statues lined the corridor. In fact, Harry realised when he glanced down, the floor was also covered in a layer of thick dust, only disturbed by Harry's foot prints. No one had been down this corridor in a long time, so long in fact that the cleaning charms that were placed on all of Hogwarts and lasted fifty years had long worn off. No house-elf had been this way recently either. Harry was amazed and a little awestruck to think he was in a part of the castle the marauders and the Weasley twins and perhaps even Dumbledore had never explored.

Curious now, Harry continued down the corridor, wall candles spluttering into life as he passed, their flames rising with a hiss and decades of cobwebs burned away. The tapestries were all grey with dust and Harry moved towards the nearest one, creating a dust-free patch with his hand, revealing the vibrant colours beneath. The tapestry, although covered in a layer of dust, was perfect beneath with no signs of deterioration. Obviously the preservation charms were still in place.

Moving further down the corridor Harry came to another and then another, there were several doors leading off them, but Harry felt compelled to keep going. Finally, he came to a corridor with only one door leading of at the far end. It was a dark colour, almost black, with intricate carvings, obscured by the dust. Taking out his wand, Harry quickly removed the dust from the door, revealing its rich red-black colour and many carvings. Running his hands carefully across the wood, Harry realised the carvings were telling a story, starting at the top, left corner they sprawled across the surface ending only half way down the door as if it had been left unfinished. The carvings didn't seem to make sense, they were depictions of many people, some were of children, some of old men, some of fighting and disasters, others with long scrolls of parchment. The only bit Harry did recognise was the beginning where a large rock was depicted falling out of the sky and a man knelt on the ground crying. So, it was for a reason Harry had felt compelled to be here then, something or someone was trying to tell him something important about the soul stone or maybe the prophesy.

Grasping the iron bolt, Harry pulled it aside and hesitantly pushed the door open. Inside was a large oval, very cluttered room. There were trunks everywhere, bookshelves lined the wall, scrolls spilled out of baskets. Robes hung off wardrobe doors tapestries hang from the ceiling and armer was stacked in corners. Harry realised that this was in fact a store room. A very hastily put together store room by the state of it. With apparently much stronger cleaning spells on it than the ones left in the hall way, for not a single cobweb could be seen. There were two window facing away from the door and Harry picked his way over to them and peered out. He was very high up, he realised. Probably at the top floor at the base of a tower. He could see the jagged cliffs below him and the gently rippling waves of the black lake and as far as the distant rolling hills of the Scottish highlands lit only by moonlight. For a moment Harry was lost in the scene below him. The feeling of magic was so strong in the air, the castle itself seemed to echo his own aching heart. This was true magic, he thought. This wild landscape to large, with so many hidden treasures just waiting to be discovered. This was where he belonged. Harry closed his eyes and took in a deep breathe. An inner calm that he had not felt for many years settled around him, the gentle buzz of the castle's magic gently smoothed skin and filled his veins. He could almost feel the heartbeat of the earth herself, just out of reach, beyond his grasp and closer the feel of many heartbeats of the many castle's inhabitants, slowed by slumber as the castle's magic soothed them where they lay.

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes and sighed as the deep feeling left him, yet the inner calm remained. Conscious of his surroundings once more, Harry swiftly looked room, pulling aside a tapestry here and there, moving an intricately carved oak chair, running his fingers over a silk dress. Finally he came to a half opened trunk with a leather strap hanging out. Removing the basket that was weighing down the lid, Harry reached to open the trunk fully. He paused however as he caught sight of the inlay on the lid. There was a line of script across the centre in a light coloured wood. It read:

_Guardian of the Path, Believe and you shall Know._

Suddenly the blood was pounding through Harry's veins. He had known when he had seen the carving on the oak door and he knew for sure. The Guardian's whoever they were, had something to do with this room. They had been here before. These things were their's. Throwing the trunk open Harry stared at the its contents. There was a mis-match of leather work, some scrolls, ribbons. Dragon hide boots. A long elegant bow and a sheath of arrows lay across the bottom under a small shield and a belt held a short elegant blade and several empty glass viles. In one corner resent a great horn on a leather strap. Harry run his fingers gently over its smooth exterior wondering what sort of animal it had come from. A rhino perhaps? Or maybe a magical beast?

Gently he lifted it up, surprised at its lightness. There was a portrait in the sixth floor by his Hermione's Arithmancy classroom of a pompous looking monk blowing a just such a horn. He knew because he had once spent almost half an hour waiting there for Hermione to finish with her 'short list of questions' on the way to lunch.

Raising the horn to his lips he took in a deep breathe then blew. A pathetic farting sound was forced from the end of horn and Harry cringed, wondering for a moment if this was all just some elaborate hoax created by the Weasley twins. Frowning, undeterred, Harry raised the horn again took in an even deeper breathe and blew as hard as possible into the horn. This time Harry could feel his magic building up, flowing through him and out threw his lips. The horn made a very load, very low rumbling that seemed to resonate throughout the whole castle. The walls shook, the stones creaked and groaned, dust shaken from their joins as though the castle had just been woken from a very long slumber. For a split second, the air seemed to be so thick with magic that Harry couldn't breath, couldn't even see. Then just as suddenly, the feeling and sound were gone and only a small echo of the magic remained.

Jumping up, panicked again, Harry grabbed his cloak. He covering himself quickly, then flew out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him and ran as fast as he could back the way he thought he'd come. Within a few minutes he was in an area of the castle he vaguely recognised. Making his way through the corridors he found the main staircase, then just a few as he ran passed on his way to the tower, the babble of voices reached his ears. Harry pressed himself against the wall, the blood was pounding in his ears and he was panting hard. Dumbledore appeared on the top step surrounded by a large group of professors, in various state of dress were frantically asking questions. Within minutes house-elves were frantically running around the corridors too and his disheveled-looking divinations teacher appeared from another corridor.

When Dumbledore reached the end of the corridor he held up his hand for silence, the loud chattering swiftly stopped.

"Minerva, Severus, Filius, Pomona, I would like you to check on your houses please, the students must be as surprised and unnerved as we are." The old man asked politely. "I want you to tell the not to panic and although we have not yet ascertained the tonight's disturbance, I want you to assure them I do not believe it to be malicious and they are not in any danger. I want you to stay with them until we are sure there will not be any more repeats tonight."

The four professors nodded respectfully, albeit only a little less flustered, and retreated towards their common rooms.

Dumbledore looked around at the rest of his staff. "Having said that, we need to investigate this thoroughly, it has disturbed me greatly. Trelawny, please could you help Hagrid and Firenze make a sweep of the grounds. Sinstra, you take the ground floor please, Vector the second, Burbage third, Babbling fourth please, Hooch fifth, Prince sixth, Filch Seventh, Poppy the towers please." The staff began moving away quickly, leaving the ghosts and house elves milling.

"Binns, please could you and your fellow kind search the passages and the un-enterable rooms please. Doddy, please can you initiate a magical sweep. I shall be in the ward tower strengthening the wards." The old man finished quickly, a strength showing that did not seem natural in a man so old.

Dobby bobbed ecstatically, but managed to refrain from his usual babbling under the seriousness of the situation. Dumbledore turned and quickly swept away.

Harry cursed, realising that it would not take his head of house long to realise he was missing. He rushed to the tower entrance and grabbed the edge of the portrait just as it was about to close. Slipping through, Harry was surprised to see the run full of students, his professor in the centre of them. Spotting Ron and Hermione, he made his way over and slipped the cloak off.

Hermione scowled. "Where have you been! We had to say you were in the toilet, you've been gone almost two hours!".

Harry was still completely out of breath.

"Well?" Ron pressed. "What happened then? Did you feel it? Did you see what it was?"

Harry had the good sense to look guilty.

"Harry!" Hermione Sqwarked, "Just what exactly were you doing? You've got the whole common room in uproar."

"Whole school," Harry muttered sheepishly. Whispering all that had happened over the last two hours. Hermione's horrified face had Ron in fits of tears when he told them about the library incident.

"Wish i'd been there," He muttered.

"Honestly," Hermione huffed, when Harry described the mysterious room and the Horn. "What were you thinking playing around with a magical artifact that could do anything? That's the last time we're letting you sneak around at night by yourself, its more trouble than its worth!"

"So?" Ron asked, not letting Harry a moment to catch his breath, "Where's the book."

Harry gave them a startled look and uselessly patted himself down. "Oh no! I must have left it in the room!"

Ron and Hermione groaned in unison.

"It's Ok," Harry insisted, "I'll just get in back in the morning!"

Within a few minutes McGonagall had ordered them all to bed and Harry fell asleep at last to the image of rolling hill and rumbling horns.


	6. Chapter 5: The Call

**Harry Potter the Crowned Guardians - PART 1: The Soul Stone**

**AkashaWinters**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter world. JK Rowling owns the Harry Potterverse anyone who doesn't know that should be exiled to Mars, I make exceptions only for poor penniless people in remote corners of third world countries, who cannot read and don't have the money to buy the overly priced one – thousand paged books. C.S Lewis owns the Narnia books (or did, not sure who does now), again I make no claim for the credit of this work, it is all the work of these amazing author's, this is just a fun re-write. I make no money from my poor attempt at fanfiction and will remove it should I be asked to do so.

**Summery:** Harry's past five years have seen more than enough adventures and too many horrors, but during sixth year his biggest adventure of all is about to begin! As if Harry's life wasn't complicated enough with DADA training, Quidditch and Newts, after an particularly unusual vision Dumbldore's got him doing Occulmency with Snape again, Trelawney's got a very confusing prophesy to be heard, Malfoy's acting weird and four Muggles have appeared out of nowhere from the 1940's with the key to their weapon and some suprising magical adventures of their own. What's the world coming to and will the mistery be unravelled before time runs out? [Post -OOTP, Cannon Compliant until 6th year, SLASH, Narnia Crossover.

**Chapter 5**

**The Call**

Peter was startled awake by a low rumbling bellow that seemed to resonate through every inch of body. Edmund too sat bolt upright in the bed across from him.

"Peter," he whispered, "Can you hear that?"

"Yes", Peter breathed. He knew that sound. It was the sound of Susan's horn, that one she had received the very first time they had set foot in Narnia. The horn was magical and only used in dire emergencies to call for aid. It had been left with all their other possessions in Narnia when they had been transported back to the 'real world' as they thought of it.

"The Horn," Edmund said, with recognition.

They both jumped out of bed, quickly dressing and grabbing their pre-packed bags. Tip-toeing down the hall,so as not to wake their grandmother, they slipped into the girl's room to find them already dressed and waiting, bags in hand.

"Hurry up," Lucy hissed excitedly.

"Are you all right, Peter?" Susan asked at the nervous look on his face.

Peter shifted, "Yes, I just..."

Susan nodded in understanding, "This is the right choice. Trust me." She held out her hand to him.

The brunette haired boy looked at his younger sister thoughtfully for a moment. "I trust you," he replied, feeling an unexplainable burden lift from his shoulders. He took her hand firmly in his grip. "I trust all of you."

Looking at each other one last time they counted to three and placed the pendents on. A flash of blinding white light filled the room and for a dizzying moment Peter felt weightless, then the light disappeared and his feet crashed heavily on a very solid floor. Teetering on the brink of falling over, he hesitantly opened his eyes and saw with relief that all three of his siblings were still with him. The next thing he noticed was his surroundings.

"We did it!" Lucy shrieked. "We actually did it! I told you, I told you I saw this! Didn't I tell you? I was right!

Edmund's face was filled with wonder. "I can't believe it, we're back! I never thought we'd ever come back!"

"Where are we?" Susan asked confused. "In the castle somewhere?"

"Here, look." Peter said hanging out the nearest window, "We're in a castle alright. But I don't recognise it and there's a lake too."

"How long do you think has passed since we last came?" Susan asked. "Maybe things have changed, like they did before. Millennia could have passed, they might have re-built the castle."

"Look," Edmund cried, pointing to a large trunk. "You're horn Susan, and you're bow too!"

"Where's my trunk?" Lucy ran around the room frantically, pulling trunks open.

"These aren't all my things," Susan said, confused. She held up a leather belt with several empty vials attached and a dagger. "This isn't mine, these clothes aren't mine either."

"I've found it!" Lucy pulled a crystal vial from one of the trunks. "This must be my trunk."

Edmund and Peter began searching for their belongings too, moving aside furniture and scrolls in the cluttered stone tower.

"There's an inscription on the lid." Susan said. She repeated the inscription for her siblings. "What do you think it means?"

"Well we are Narnia guardian's I suppose." Edmund replied, picking through a nearby trunk.

Peter pulled open another trunk to find his shield and sword with in it. Like Susan, there were many possession in it that he didn't recognise. Closing the lid he realised the trunk also held an inscription. "This one says: _Guardian of the Heart, believe and you will feel._"

"Finally!" Edmund exclaimed, "These are my things."

Peter lent over, peering at the lid of Edmund's trunk. "_Guardian of the Truth, believe and you will hear." _Suddenly, Peter realised why the phrases seemed to familiar. "Of course! The note." Fumbling through his bag, peter found the mahogany box the pendents had come in and withdrew the parchment note. He looked down at the last line. "_Guardians of the Soul, believe and you will see."_

"It's all connected somehow." Susan said, realisation dawning.

"What does your's say Lucy?" Peter asked.

Lucy fumbled with the lid, then read; "_Guardian of the future, believe and you will see."_

"Maybe its trying to tell us something." Edmund suggested. "There must be something we're meant to do. Something we're meant to Guard."

"Except its all riddles!" Susan huffed.

Peter let out a sigh. "Come on. We should take a look around, see if we can find out where we are and what year we are in."

The siblings nodded and quickly they gathered their weapons. As Peter turned for the door, a piercing scream filled the air. Peter swung around at once, drawing his sword.

"Good god boy. Put that thing away!" Peter stared gob-smacked at the translucent floating man in front of him.

"Who are you?" He demanded, not lowering his sword. "I mean to say, what are you?"

The man looked highly offended. "Heaven's whatever do you mean? I'm a ghost of course. I don't recognise you. You look far to old a first year. What house are you in?"

Peter was stunned. He didn't understand much of what the ghost was saying, in fact he could hardly believe his eyes.

"I'm not a first year," He replied instinctively, lowering his sword. "I'm a sixth year and my family name is Pevensie if that's what you are asking. I'm Peter Pevensie, King of Narnia. Who are you? I've never seen a ghost before."

The ghost appeared delighted by Peter's title. "I say, a King did you say? What a pleasure! I've never met a King before you know, only a Prince, Prince Mariqui. Do excuse my manners, I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington,at your service. I've never heard of Narnia though, but i've been a bit out of touch with the world these past centuries, is that a new provinence?"

"But this is Narnia, isn't it?" Lucy exclaimed. "This is the palace!"

"My dear girl," The ghost replied, giving her an add look, "This is Hogwarts Castle, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and this is Scotland."

"Scotland!" Susan gasped in despair.

The ghost was eyeing them up with suspicion now. "I say, how did you come to be here not knowing where you are? In an un-enter-able part of the castle no less."

"We were given these necklaces," Lucy began.

"And we didn't know what they'd do..." Edmund continued.

"But I knew they'd do something, I say it in a dream." Lucy butted in.

"Anyway, its not the first time we've been on an adventure." Edmund added.

"And we were trying to find out what a riddle meant, because we're meant to solve it." Susan interrupted.

The ghost bought his hand up to silence them. "I see," He said, although he looked nothing short of confused. "I will bring you to the headmaster."

They turned to follow the ghost out of a large oak door. Susan tugged on Peter's sleeve. "What if he's evil, like the white witch? We're walking straight into a trap!"

Edmund turned to the ghost. "Sir Nicholas, this wizard, is he an evil wizard? Would he wish us harm?"

His siblings blanked at the straight forward question. Edmund just looked relaxed.

The ghost looked surprised, "Strewth! This is a school, boy. There are no evil wizard's here. Albus Dumbledore is a very good man, he does not have an evil bone in his body and would not let any child come to any harm inside these walls."

Peter simply looked enquiringly at his brother. Edmund nodded, satisfied. Some of the tension left Peter's body. In recent years, ever since their first visit to Narnia, Peter had come to realise that his siblings had some special talents that he couldn't quite put his finger on. For example, if Lucy said that she'd dreamed you would trip over and fall on your face, you would. If they were lost and Susan said they should take a right turn, then they would find their way home, and if Edmund said that someone was lying, they were.

Peter nodded respectfully towards the ghost. "We will follow you, Sir, and meet with this wizard."

The ghost nodded and turned towards the old wooden door, before floating straight through it. Edmund reached the door first and pulled it open, holding it for his siblings to pass through. Stone lanterns magically flared to life as they entered the windowless corridor, showing a thick coat of dust, which appeared to have been recently disturbed. Susan wordlessly pointed this out to her siblings as the ghost silently floated ahead. Soon they were lost in a maize of passages and corridors and all eerily silent. Suddenly, Lucy shrieked and grabbed hold of Susan's arm making them all jump.

"Lucy!" Edmund gasped, prepared to drawn his sword. "What by the name of the lord are you shrieking for?"

Peter too was very tense, however he calmed himself as Lucy relaxed and curiously move towards a portrait.

"The woman in the painting." She spoke curiously. "She moved. I saw her move."

There was a moment of silence, the portrait remained still, until suddenly the women opened her mouth and spoke. "Why dear, you seem so surprised. Are you a muggleborn? I hear muggle pictures have no life."

Peter couldn't help but gasp along with his siblings. A talking painting! He couldn't believe they weren't in Narnia. He had never seen magic outside of Narnia, never believed it existed. Yet, here was a ghost, and magical lanterns, and talking pictures, and the ghost claimed them to be in a school in Scotland!

"What did she mean?" Susan asked the ghost, "What does the word muggle mean?"

The ghost looked at them thoughtfully, taking in fully their clothes and manners for the first time. Finally, he said. "The headmaster will be able to make sense of it all. I'm sure he'll be able to anwser all your questions. Follow me, please."

Peter nodded and shushed his siblings questions, and they continued to follow the ghost without stopping, excitedly pointing out strange objects, magical mirrors and moving staircases without questioning the ghost again. Eventually, the reached a gargoyle and the ghost disappeared, asking them to wait patiently. A moment later the gargoyle leaped aside, revealing a golden staircase.

"Come on," Lucy exclaimed entering the staircase, which began to revolve off its own accord.

The staircase led to a large room, its oak door already open, and Peter could see the ghost and several other figures beyond.

"Ah," A voice spoke up. "Do come in, Mr. Pevensie."

Peter entered the circular room, quickly surveying the peculiar instruments and objects upon the shelves before settling his gaze upon the very old man who had spoken.

"Are you the wizard Albus Dumbledore, that the ghost spoke of?" Peter was blunt and to the point, his voice relaying his suspicion. Even if Edmund believed the ghost spoke the truth, this was after all still a wizard and who knew what charms and trickery he may be using.

The old man smiled warmly back, ignoring Peter's coolness. "Indeed I am, and I am Headmaster of this school. This..." He pointed to an elderly lady with a serve expression, who reminded him strongly of a teacher he'd once had. "This is Professor McGonagall, and Professors Sprout, Filtwick and Snape."

Peter surveyed the professors, ignoring Lucy's delighted squeal at the very peculiar-looking man named Filtwick. They all had the 'teacher' look about them and appeared un-threatening, although the tall dark-haired man had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"We are all very pleased to meet you," The headmaster continued, He surveyed them over before continuing, "And I believe these must be your siblings from the strong family resemblance."

Peter remembered his manners and stood aside to politely introduce his family. "This is my eldest sister Susan, my brother Edmund and my youngest sister Lucy. We're please too meet you too."

The old man brushed his long white beard flat before clicking his fingers. Several chairs appeared out of thin air making the siblings jump. "Please do take a seat." He requested before sitting himself behind the desk. "Sir Nicholas tells me you were very surprised to find yourselves here at Hogwarts, in fact you didn't appear to have heard of our school before, and indeed, and couldn't seem to explain your arrival in a part of the castle that has been un-enter-able for centuries. Perhaps, you would care to enlighten us about the circumstances of your arrival?"

"We were called." Susan spoke up.

"Called?" Professor McGonogall asked in surprise, "How so?"

"The horn. It was given to me in Narnia, as a Christmas present. It has the ability to call aid in times of war. Someone blew the horn and we were summoned." She explained, holding out the horn for inspection. "But, I don't know how it came to be here, how any of our belongings found their way here, since we left them in Narnia and you claim we are in Scotland."

"What is Narnia? Is this a muggle county or town?" The tall dark man asked, curious.

"What's a muggle?" Lucy asked, confused. "The talking painting asked if I was a muggle, but I don't know what it means!"

The headmaster seemed surprised, but asked tentatively. "Can you do magic?"

Edmund scowled. "We're not witches or wizards if that's what your asking. We can't turn people to stone or take control of people's minds and we wouldn't want to. The only magic we have is the magical objects given to us. We only use their magic to protect our kingdom and its people."

"Your kingdom?" The old wizard prompted, concern lacing his voice at Edmund's reaction to the mention of magic.

There was a moment of silence, then Peter replied. "Narnia is our kingdom. I was crowded High King, Susan was crowned Queen, Edmund Prince and Lucy Princess by Narnia's people after we rid them of the evil white witch's rein of eternal winter. We ruled over Narnia for fifteen years before returning to our home land, and have since returned once, when called by the horn."

"I see," Dumbledore murmured, steepling his fingers and appearing thoughtful for a moment. "You say you returned to your home land. Where do you live?"

"In London, sir." Lucy replied, enthusiastic for her input. "Although we stayed for a while in the country during the worst of the blitz."

There was an intake of breath around the room. "The blitz, you say? I believe that was the muggle war, wasn't it. 1939-1945, if my memory serves me well. You were evacuees, I presume?"

The children nodded. Peter was a little confused, how could anyone forget the war? The war wasn't even over yet! What did this wizard mean, was he suggesting the war was going to finish in 1945? Had he seen the future in some magical crystal ball? The wizard did not appear to be finished.

"In that case, I believe you have time-travelled. It is now 1996, you are in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a magically hidden county in Scotland. I believe you are likely the first muggles, that is to say, non-magical, people to have set foot in this building for many centuries."

"Time-travelled?" Susan exclaimed. "Is that even possible?"

"Yes," The wizard replied sincerely. "A highly unusual occurrence, granted, but I have no doubt we shall soon unravel the mystery that has bought you here." The old wizard sat thoughtfully for a moment. "This Narnia you speak of, I cannot say that i've ever heard of it. Is it a muggle Provence or a magical one?"

"Magical." Peter replied, feeling more confused than ever. "When we were evacuated we stayed at a manor house in the country. One day we were playing hide and seek and Lucy hide in the a wardrobe."

Lucy was unable to contain her excitement at the re-telling of the story, one she'd had to keep secret for so very long. "There was no back to the wardrobe! I just kept going through until I was in Narnia. It was deep in Snow and I met a Faun called Mr. Tumnus. Anyway, they wouldn't believe me, but eventually we all ended up in Narnia!"

"We met an evil witch there." Edmund spoke quietly, still ashamed of his younger self's naivety. "She seemed nice at first, but she lied to us and used her magic to turn people to stone."

The headmaster frowned, "And this wardrobe, it was the only entrance to Narnia?"

"No, the second time we went there we were in the underground on our way home from school. The whole world just dissolved around us!" Susan explained, "Also recently, Edmund and Lucy travelled there from a alleyway in London."

"This world, do you think it is a hidden realm? Perhaps this wardrobe is the access point and there is some charm placed on it that creates a port-key-like connection to whoever enters it, I've never heard of such a thing, but I suppose it is possible in theory?" Flitwick suggested.

"I can think of several possibilities, that is certainly one of them. Alternatively, it is possible you may contain some dormant magic, which was triggered by your initial visit. It is possible you may actually be disapparating." The headmaster theorized.

"Disapparating?" Susan asked.

"Apparition is a magical form of transport." McGonagall explained in lecture mode. "It requires the traveller to form a strong imagine of the chosen destination in their head and use their magic to pull them through magical reality to this point. Since it is such advanced magic and due to its dangers if performed incorrectly, it is prohibited for anyone under the age of 17 by wizarding law."

The siblings paled a little under the teachers stern gaze. "We didn't know we were doing magic!" Lucy exclaimed, both excited and a little scared.

"We cannot say for sure how you travelled to and from Narnia. However, apparition doesn't work here at Hogwarts, so I believe you must have arrived here by portkey." Dumbledore surmised. His eyes were fixed on Susan's bare neck were her necklace lay exposed. "Your pendant I believe may be the device that transported you here."

"Yes!" Susan exclaimed clutching it. "We all have them, they were given to us by our father. We knew they were magical, and that we'd be taken here because of the dream Lucy had, but we thought they'd take us to Narnia."

The tall, dark man, who'd been quiet until now, spoke incredulously to Lucy. "You dreamt this?"

Peter, glared back at the scowling man, moving subtly in front of his younger sister. "Lucy wouldn't lie about something like this and considering your school has paintings on the wall that can speak, ghosts, and teachers that can make objects appear from the air, I can't see why a dream of the future should be so hard to believe."

The headmaster let out a chuckle, diffusing the tension. "Indeed. You are quite right, Mr. Pevensie, a very logical argument. You'll have to forgive my potions master, he has little faith in the practice of divination, he likes to believe only in the firmer magical sciences of potions, charms, spells and so on. No doubt, having been educated in science yourself, you see the irony in this."

The old wizard chuckled again, his blue eyes twinkling merrily, while Professor Snape's scowl seemed only to grow deeper.

"Now," The wizard, straightened, face suddenly business-like. "Since we have determined how you arrived, and it doesn't look like you'll be disappearing again any time soon, I think perhaps it would be best if Professor Sprout showed you to the guest room. If you're still here in the morning, we'll work on a way to send you home to your family as soon as we can. I'm sure they'll be very worried to wake up and find you've gone."

A shadow crossed Peter's face at the mention of their parents, but he forced a smile and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, we'd appreciate that."

"I'd suggest you leave those pendants on for the time being, we wouldn't want them to go home without you." The Headmaster's smile faltered a little as they turned to follow sprout towards the door. "Just one last question, Mr. Pevensie."

"Yes, Sir?" Peter enquired.

"You haven't discovered our library yet have you?"

Peter frowned confused, "No, Sir. We just appeared in the room the ghost found us in. We haven't had time to look around."

The headmaster's smile re-appeared. "I'm sure a tour can be arranged before arranged before your departure. He castle has many delights and our library is very extensive, if a little disorganised at present."

Peter nodded, absently. The nights conversation was a whirling mess in his head and he longed for bed. "Well, goodnight Headmaster."

Turning, he followed after his siblings while the headmaster's sharp gaze watched his retreat.

"Albus?" Minerva asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"I don't believe their arrival was a coincidence. There were large energy readings coming from the library, the sort of signature left from a large out-burst of raw magic. Not to mention that the 'horn' they claimed to have been summoned by was found by them in an un-enterable part of the castle." The headmaster informed them.

"Meaning, the person who blew it would have had to have entered that part of the castle somehow." Minerva deduced.

"Precisely."

"You think it was the same person?" Severus asked, "A student?"

"No doubt." The headmaster moved to stand by the window, gazing out across the grounds.

There was a moments pause as though he were waiting for them to connect the dots. A second later Snape snarled. "Potter."

Minerva looked surprised, the annoyed. "Really Severus, not everything revolves around Harry. It could be any student."

"Who else would be in the library in the middle of the night, no doubt trying to steal a book from the forbidden section. Who else would manage to loose control of their magic and cause such compete and utter chaos? Who else is so exceptionally good at entering un-enterable areas of the castle and getting into trouble of some sort or other? Who else would stumble across a magical object and not consider the dangers before using it?" Snape ranted, pacing the office.

Minerva thought to argue back, then reconsidered. "You might be right, Severus. It's not that the boy is deliberately troublesome, he just seems to..."

"Have no common sense at all? Have a complete and blatant disregard for rules? Have no concept or care for the dangers to himself and others around him or the consequences of his actions?" The man continued to fume.

"That's enough, Severus. Harry has had more than his fair share of difficulties in the past and while he may have been naive and ignorant, something I feel I may have been partly to blame for, i'm sure he's now more than aware of the consequences of his actions." Albus spoke quietly. "However, I believe you are correct. No other student has such power or ability, even in its untrained form. And of course there's the matter of the Soul Stone and the prophesy."

"The prophesy, Albus?" Minerva asked surprised. You think these children have something to do with it?"

"When the stones are gifted and the sound of war is cried," Albus quoted. "The eldest sister said that they had been given pendants each by their father. She also said her horn was designed to bring aid in times of war. A large co-incidence wouldn't you say?" The headmaster continued, quoting the next line. "The guardians shall step through time to their sorcerer and defy. They have certainly stepped through time, and claim to be rules and the protectors of a magical realm. There was even mention of 'the four' in the last part of the prophesy."

Albus turned from the window towards his colleagues and fellow order members. "No, this cannot be a co-incidence. These children are here for a reason and my instinct tells me that reason is to help Harry somehow win this war once and for all."

**AN/: **Thanks for reading! Sorry for the long wait guys, I know its been months, but i'm back to writing again and I'm determined to get back to all three of my fics. So here's a start! Also... thanks for all the lovely reviews which really helped me get back to writing again.


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